Safe
by RMTNDEW
Summary: A late night conversation in the kitchen with Rogue and Logan. A short one shot.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Marvel characters, sadly.

Sidenotes: This was my first one-shot as well as my first time writing _as_ Rogue. Just thought I'd post it and share it with ya'll while I'm writing my new full-length story. Enjoy!

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**Safe**

Safe. That's how we we're meant to feel. The school was a place set aside in a cruel world so that people like us could live without fear. A fear that humans would recognize us as mutants and try to hurt us. I've heard it a hundred times before; Humans only fear mutants because they don't understand it, and people fear what they don't understand. I quietly laughed to myself at that thought. _They_ didn't understand us? I didn't even understand it myself. Maybe that's why I was so scared.

Maybe.

"Hey, what are you doin' up this late?"

His voice in the silent of the night made my head turn, but it didn't scare me. Logan's voice was always welcomed, no matter what time.

I smiled at him from where I was sitting on the windowsill in the kitchen. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"Couldn't sleep," I admitted. "So why are you up?"

He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep, either. One-Eye's snorin' so loud I could hear him through the walls."

He walked to where I was, but didn't sit down. He just stood behind me. We both turned our attention to the falling snow outside the large window. It had begun only a couple of hours before, but the ground was already covered in the white, untouched powder.

He was standing so close behind me, I could feel the heat coming off his body on the exposed skin of my shoulders. He didn't seem to care. He was the only person who would even get anywhere near me when I wasn't covered head to toe. They were all scared of me, of my skin, but not him.

"Nightmares?" he asked. His voice was low and gravely. I could feel it rumble through me. I nodded wordlessly. "Sorry.".

He knew that most of my nightmares came from him, though I had never told him. He knew I had his memories inside my head, replaying themselves whenever I slept. Like a horror movie on an endless loop playing in my mind. He wasn't the first person whose memories I had absorbed, and he probably wouldn't be the last, but his were the only ones I had fought to keep. Everyone else I had pushed out of my mind, let time take its course and wear them down until they faded, leaving nothing but a ghost of what they used to be. But I struggled, trying to keep the Logan inside of my head alive. I felt better with him there, safer somehow. No matter where I was, as long as he was inside my head, I was never alone.

"Snow's fallin' hard out there. Might have to cancel my classes outside tomorrow."

I smiled. "Oh darn," I said sarcastically, turning my head up to look at him.

He smiled down at me. "Ouch, that hurt Marie," he said equally as sarcastically and gave me a wink before I turned back to the window.

Marie. Only he called me by my real name. Never in public, he called me Rogue then, my chosen name. But when we were alone, I was Marie. It was like our little secret. No one else knew my real name. No one else had cared to ask. But he had. He knew me better than anyone. And I knew him.

"You didn't get up because you couldn't sleep, did you?" I asked, not bothering to look up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're not here because Scott's snoring." I looked up at him once again. His face was straight, emotionless.

"Then why did I get up?"

I shrugged. "Why don't you tell me?"

He was silent for a minute before letting out a deep breath. He sat down on the windowsill beside me with grace and ease. I watched him as he stared out at the snow for a moment. "Nightmares, too?" he tried as he turned to me, his eyebrow raised.

I shook my head. "No. Something else."

"I had to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

"I wanted a glass of water?"

I shook my head again. "You're gonna' have to try harder than that, Logan," I said with a short smile.

He scratched the back of his head as he stared at me hard for a second. "Alright…I heard you get up and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Okay, I'll buy it."

"So," he started, "_are_ you okay?"

I shrugged my shoulders once again and let out a deep sigh. "I don't know."

"What don't you know about?"

"Everything."

"Well, why don't we work at it one thing at a time, alright?"

"I don't even know where to start. Everything's so…scary right now."

"Like what?"

"Goin' to college," I said, and even I could hear my own southern accent in my voice.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "That's not until later this year, darlin', why are you worryin' about it now?"

I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them to me tightly. "Because it's not gonna' be like it is here. People aren't gonna' understand why I have to keep myself covered up all the time."

"It's none of their business what you do. Why do you care what other people think?"

"I care because I'm not like you, Logan. I can't just go out into a crowd and have no one know that I'm a mutant. They figure it out eventually, and then they all hate me for it. Hate me for something I can't control, or understand. Like I choose to be like this, like it's my fault or something. Do they honestly think if I had a choice I would want to be this way?"

"There ain't nothing wrong with you, Marie-" he started.

"I can't touch people, Logan. I would say that counts as bein' something 'wrong'."

"No, it's different. Different don't always mean wrong."

"Tell that to the people who are scared of me."

"I am," he said and the tone of his voice forced me to look at him. "Not everyone's gonna' like you Marie, and yeah, some of 'em will probably be scared of you, but you gotta' stop bein' scared of yourself."

"I can't touch people without killin' them, how am I supposed to not be scared of that?"

"When was the last time you killed someone?"

"I've never killed anyone," I said defensively.

"And when was the last time you touched someone?"

I looked away. "I don't know."

"Yes you do." He said it so certain, so sure of himself. He knew me too well.

"Two months, three weeks, and six days," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You're doin' better."

"Yeah, I can touch people for ten seconds instead of five without puttin' them into a coma," I said bitterly. "I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?"

"I don't want to be scared to get too close to people. I don't want them to be scared of me. I want…" I paused as tears formed in my eyes. "I want someone to hold me. That's all I want. Just someone to be able to hold me without me hurtin' them."

"Okay," he said.

I looked back at him, tears marring my eyesight. "Okay?" I asked confused.

"Yeah," he said nodding, "okay." And for the first time since he came into the room, I noticed he was wearing his gloves.

The tears falling from my eyes quickened and streaked down my cheeks as he pulled me close to him and held me tight against his chest. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and cried into his shoulder. He said nothing for a long moment; he just held me close and stroked my hair. Then he finally spoke. "I promised you that I was gonna' take care of you, and I don't plan on breakin' that promise anytime soon. You ain't got nothing to be scared of, 'cause I'm right here. I'm gonna' hold onto you and I ain't gonna' let anyone hurt you."

"I love you Logan," I whispered through my ebbing sobs.

I felt him kiss the top of my head and whisper in my ear, "I love you, too, darlin'."

Safe. That's how I felt in Logan's arms. I was safe.


End file.
